My prevailing memory of South by Southwest 2011 is one of lines, lines and more lines. No seniority, no elite press privileges, level playing field. It’s no duckwalk if you’re trying to file all the time. Cannes and Sundance offer elite passes to a certain journalistic fraternity. If you were me wouldn’t you prefer this kind of deal to a festival run by the sensibility of “the people’s republic of Austin”? This is but one of the reasons I’m not attending this year’s SXSW.
On top of which I wouldn’t want to deal with being even in the general realm of James Rocchi‘s late-night karaoke routine. To get into karaoke it helps to be half-bombed (at least on the singer’s part) and my newfound sobriety has put me on a separate path.
